


Once Upon a Halloween Night

by SoulOfAFangirl684



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Gen, Halloween, Light Angst, Light Grief/Mourning, One-Shot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 20:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18395939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulOfAFangirl684/pseuds/SoulOfAFangirl684
Summary: An oddly tender moment shared between Harry and his aunt on Halloween night.





	Once Upon a Halloween Night

**Author's Note:**

> It seems a little out of place now... cross-posting it in April... but this was originally written on Halloween, when it just hit me out of nowhere that it was technically also the anniversary of James and Lily's deaths. So I wanted to write a little something to... not celebrate, exactly, but acknowledge what else this holiday means for the fandom. So here we are.

The Dursleys were not a festive family. This wasn’t to say they didn’t celebrate all the same holidays every other normal family did, but in this household there were no egg-laying rabbits or flying reindeer. The Dursleys did not approve of imagination, and if there was one holiday they detested above all others, it was Halloween.

At least the tales dictated that Santa Claus was meant to do his work out of sight. Promoting the idea that ghouls and spirits could walk among the realm of the living—even for just one night… Well, there was no way _their_ son was going to partake in such nonsense.

And really, Vernon and Petunia found it quite easy to maintain the normalcy of their own home even when every other house in the neighborhood had been overrun with grotesque decorations and the shrieks and laughter of other children could be heard a street over. Five years into parenthood, they were old pros at handling their… _lively_ son’s tantrums. By the end of the night, Dudley usually ended up with more than twice the number of sweets his peers won trick-or-treating, _and_ there was much less physical exertion required.

After four years with the Dursleys, Harry, too, had grown used to this routine. He no longer got his hopes up as the tenth month drew to a close. He knew by now that there would be no dressing up, no frolicking around the neighborhood. None of Dudley’s spoils of bribery would be shared with him.

As it was, the most haunted night of the year was turning out to be quite peaceful. Dudley had disappeared into his room hours ago, Petunia was nowhere to be seen, and Vernon was preoccupied with verbally abusing any trick-or-treaters who dared ring their doorbell. Harry was left to his own devices as long as he did nothing to call attention to himself. He rarely felt so free in this house.

Now he crept past Dudley’s bedroom—the sounds of some violent video game or other drifting through the closed door. It would seem he wasn’t the only one taking advantage of the festivities to escape their bedtime. As he heard the doorbell ring yet again, Harry noticed the door to his aunt and uncle’s room was ajar. He froze as he heard the man storm down the hall below. He figured he was safe once the shouting began.

His guardians’ bedroom had always been 100% off-limits, and Harry had never challenged this. Even a small child was aware when he was unwanted. But there was something mystical about this night, no matter how hard the Dursleys tried to quash it.

Harry tentatively pushed the door open further. The room was dark, but he could make out his aunt at the window. She didn’t turn around as he took a step into the room. In fact, she didn’t move a muscle as her nephew slowly walked up to stand beside her at the window.

Outside, Uncle Vernon’s latest victim was being pulled away by her mother. Though it was dark, her costume was generic enough to be obvious, and her hair was such a bright shade of red that it nearly glowed in the moonlight, making her easy to keep an eye on.  Harry watched as the little witch was consoled by her parents and glanced up to see Petunia focusing on the same child just as intently.

The two stood in silence for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. Harry couldn’t help it. He’d steeled his mind against this sort of thing, but he found himself wondering whether, in another life, he could have ended up like that little girl. Had his parents been the kind of people he could go running to with any problem? Would they have followed him door to door around the neighborhood, dressed in some colorful outfit?

He startled at the feeling of a hand on the back of his head. His aunt’s touch was—for the first time in his life—gentle. He fully expected to be slapped and sent away for trespassing, but Petunia appeared to be in a trance of sorts.

“What a dreadful holiday,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on the street below. “Your parents died on Halloween, you know.”

Harry held his breath. His aunt’s touch remained an anchoring presence on the back of his head. No one ever spoke of his parents. He hadn’t known today was the anniversary of their deaths.

The little girl’s cries were finally starting to fade away. The Dursleys’ front door slammed shut and Petunia removed her hand, quick as a strike of lightning. There was still an oddly empty look in his aunt’s eyes, but their moment was over. Harry heard Vernon trudging up the stairs and darted into the bathroom, hiding until his uncle had joined Petunia in their room.

**…………**

Later, in the safety of his cupboard, Harry would reflect on this night. The memory would certainly stand out, given his aunt’s usual coldness. He didn’t really expect anything to come of it. His perfect, loving family would remain in his dreams. But this night had certainly put a new perspective on Halloween.


End file.
